


Syzygy

by catwalksalone



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Comment Fic, First Time, M/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwalksalone/pseuds/catwalksalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Same words, different meaning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Syzygy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **oxoniensis**' Porn Battle, July, 2008. Prompt: talk

"If you could just ..."

"Ah yes, I see. I can adjust the angle to ..."

"Exactly. And that means we'll ..."

"Yes, of course, how did I not see it before?"

"Hello? Genius here. Admire me later, I need you to ..."

"Already doing it, Rodney. Do you have the ..."

Radek holds out his hand and Rodney's fingertips brush against his palm as he passes the device over. He has no time to examine the implications of the sharp current the touch sends through his skin because it's his day off, and naturally, that means a crisis that only he can help Rodney avert.

Words tumble from Rodney's mouth and Radek needs pay only half an ear because he knows them even before they are spoken, is replying before the sentence is finished. It hasn't always been like this between them, this syzygy of mind and mouth, but it feels as though it has.

"You're going to have to ..." says Rodney and Radek is on the floor and crawling into the small space under the blasted console before Rodney has even had time to muster up his customary fake-apologetic expression.

"I am thinking of chopping off your legs at the knee," says Radek. "Then starving you for a month. And then you can crawl into tiny spaces made for rats." He twists round, wedging his flashlight between his teeth and sets to work.

Rodney says something but he cannot reply with a mouth full of metal and ignores him. The space is cramped and dark and it's difficult to maneuver. It takes all his concentration to make the repair so he is only peripherally aware of Rodney's voice, muffled and intermittent as if holding a conversation with an invisible companion. The sound is comforting. Radek would smile, but he would lose the flashlight and that would not be conducive to getting out quickly or, most importantly, alive.

He is almost through when he recognizes his name in the mumblings. They are not so much mumblings now, either. Rodney's tone is strident and Radek thinks he recognizes an edge of panic in his voice. Radek's fingers fly over damaged crystals as he works to finish; perhaps there is another crisis. Pushing the last crystal back into place, Radek starts shimmying out of the hole, pulling the flashlight from his mouth as he goes.

Rodney is crouched at the entrance, face pinched in an expression Radek has seen too many times.

"What is it?" he asks. Rodney reaches out a hand and, grabbing Radek's wrist, pulls him to a sitting position. He doesn't let go.

"You ... you stopped talking," Rodney says and Radek knows he looks puzzled because Rodney waves his free hand in tight circles between them and says, "You don't ... we don't ... you're always _there_. I don't finish because ..."

"I do it for you?"

Rodney nods and his lips lose a little of their downwards slant. Radek's pulse pounds against Rodney's fingers and he wonders whether he should be grateful or discouraged that language skills are not one of Rodney's talents--verbal _or_ non-verbal.

"Next time I have a flashlight in my mouth I will try harder to communicate. Perhaps I can attempt Morse Code with my toes." Radek tries to smile but something in Rodney's expression will not let him joke and so he simply stares and hopes he is not imagining the soft caress of a thumb across the tendons of his wrist.

He does not imagine the door opening and Rodney leaping to his feet, all business, as Mr. Woolsey and Sheppard enter, shooting questions faster than bullets. He does not imagine Rodney's real apologetic expression as he is borne off some minutes later by a horde of over-excited scientists. He does not imagine, either, Rodney leaning against the door to his quarters, chin up in belligerent defiance. Radek smiles and invites him in.

"If you could just ..."

"Ah yes, I see. I can adjust the angle to ..."

"Exactly. And that means we'll ..."

"Yes, of course, how did I not see it before?"

"Hello? Genius here. Admire me later, I need you to ..."

"Already doing it, Rodney. Do you have the ..."

When Radek comes, words bleed from his mouth and he has no idea if they make sense or even what they are but Rodney is flushed and panting above him, cock solid inside Radek and he is nodding, his own mouth moving, already halfway through a reply.

It isn't the shape of the words that matters, it's that they exist at all. Radek opens his mouth.

* * *


End file.
